


Smoke and Mirrors

by CastorGalaxy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, God is genderfluid, M/M, No beta we fall like Lucifer, Not all angels and demons are related, Polyamory, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wing Kink, blatant disregard of the gender binary, timelines are wonky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastorGalaxy/pseuds/CastorGalaxy
Summary: Lucifer retired from hell after the Armageddon that didn't happen. Angels meet to plot to send him back to hell. One angel in particular believes anyone can be redeemed. Even a demon. Even the Devil.





	1. Connections

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I've been wanting to write this since binge watching Good Omens for the first time. I feel like merging the series' all from the same glorious mind of Neil Gaiman would make a lovely story.
> 
> If anyone has any headcannons regarding the crossover please send them to me! I have a lot of idea but I would love to bounce off of other fans.

The first time the angel, Aziraphale, met the devil was in London, at the Globe Theater at a playing of Hamlet. 

Crowley tensed beside him, having gone together after Crowley had made the show famous, the crowd thick, but Lucifer towered over them, dark hair and eyes glowing by the firelight beside him. Even though they had never met, the energy coming off the devil was dark, filled with desire and chaos. 

Aziraphale had never seen anyone more beautiful and for truly the first time, he felt Lust. While he had always been fond of Crowley, this was different. It was wicked and passionate and powerful. Devil’s magic.

Temptation had always been the angel’s weakness and in that moment, filled with joy at his friend’s demonic miracle, he wanted to indulge.

“Lucifer,” Crowley said low enough for only the angel to hear. “What is he doing here?”

Within a moment, the question is answered as Shakespeare himself immerges from the crowd and embraces the devil. Lucifer smirks and pulls him in for a kiss. Aziraphale gasps.

“Well, that explains it,” Crowley says offhandedly, looking back at the stage. But Aziraphale cannot stop watching, carnal fascination taking root in his gut. Lucifer leans to whisper something in Shakespeare’s ear, and the shorter man shudders, looking up at the devil and whispers something else before they walk together backstage.

Aziraphale tries then to focus on the play, but find it very hard.

The second time Aziraphale met Lucifer, Crowley was asleep.

He had been for nearly half a century at this point, and the angel had taken to gentleman’s clubs-specifically one with a gentleman named Oscar Wilde.

He was handsome and smooth, words that dripped like honey from red lips, full of temptation. 

Aziraphale indulged for the first time in bodily pleasure with the man, forming his first bond with a human.

What he had not expected was Lucifer sharing the same partner.

He walked into the room and commanded it, all turning their heads at his magnificent form. Aziraphale simultaneously wanted to run away and towards the devil. Instead he watched the tall man lean over Wilde’s smaller frame, whispering something positively wicked in his ear if any indication by Oscar’s response.

The only human Aziraphale had ever indulged in was Oscar Wilde, and apparently so did the devil. What did that say about him? He sat in awe as the two walked out together, arm in arm, sharing a look of lust.

5 years after the Apocalypse that didn’t happen.

Crowley and Aziraphale are making out on the couch in Crowley’s flat.

Tongues and limbs tangled, no clear definition of angel and demon except the contrast of cream versus black fabric and fiery red versus platinum blond hair.

A moan escapes one of them, finally breaking their embrace, lips find their way down a neck, hands find their way tangled into hair. They are so familiar with each other that pleasure passes freely between them, not even entirely connected to their bodies.

It should be said, that no mortal can truly achieve whatever subconscious level Aziraphale and Crowley had. Especially with all the practice they had had in the last five years.

However in this instance they were rudely interrupted.

“OH!” Aziraphale exclaimed, all but throwing Crowley off of him as he jumped to his feet. “Well, fuck!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Crowley asked, reaching out for him. Aziraphale stepped back further.

“It appears I’m being summoned.” He said wringing his hands together. “Fuck!”

“Swearing twice? Can’t be good.” Crowley mumbled as he lounged back against the couch. “What do you suppose they want?”

“I’m not sure. But quite right, can’t be good.” He closed his eyes briefly before locking eyes with the demon. “I swear to you, I will be right back.”

Before Crowley could respond, Aziraphale was gone with a snap.

He landed on the beach. Salt water air encompassing him as the rest of his senses caught up.

“Aziraphale,” a low voice uttered and the angel opened his eyes to be greeted by someone he once called friend. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Amenadiel,” he replied, “What appears to be the problem?”

“The problem is since you averted the Great War,” the dark angel began to pace, “Lucifer refuses to rule hell anymore.” Amenadiel lets a pause settle between them. “I need your help to get him back there.”

“Quite right,” Aziraphale responds, “But I don’t see how I could be any use to-“

“You owe this to heaven!” Amenadiel shouted, wings bursting out and time stopping altogether.

Aziraphale did not cower, his own wings emerging behind him. “I do not owe heaven anything.” He said with a cold fire in his tone. “However, I can see what I can do to help. Not because you are telling me to. But because I care about this world and all of its beings. The devil himself loose in-where are we exactly?”

“Los Angeles,” Amenadiel says.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Always for the dramatics. Right. I will see what can be done.”

“Keep your pet demon out of this.”

That phrase brought burning celestial light out of Aziraphale. “I will do as I see fit. You want my help? I’m doing it my way.”

Amenadiel snarled and disappeared with a snap.

Aziraphale sighed before really taking in his surroundings, wings furled back as time began again.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed before snapping his fingers.

Crowley tried really hard to remain on the couch unphased despite the worry that coursed through his veins. But when Aziraphale returned he rushed to his feet to embrace him.

“Wait,” Aziraphale said softly, hands up to hold the demon back, “I just need a moment.”

His hands were shaking, but he went to pour himself a generous amount of scotch from the decanter on the table. He took a long sip before refilling and pouring one for Crowley.

As he handed the demon the glass the trembling in his hands was too great and Crowley supported his hands with his own, silently asking what was wrong.

“It appears,” he said before taking another long drink of scotch, “That your old boss needs to be sent back to hell.”


	2. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes along exactly with Season 1 Episode 9 of Lucifer (A Priest Walks into a Bar).  
So much plot. I promise I will get to smut. Maybe that's how chapter 3 will start.  
Still working out the kinks in this crossover.

Aziraphale began packing his bags, deciding that getting clothes in Los Angeles was in his best interest, so his luggage was filled almost entirely with books.  
Having immediately transported them both back to his bookshop to prepare, Crowley had somehow grabbed the decanter before their arrival.

“Angel, you can’t be serious,” Crowley said, circling him much like the snake that he was. “You’re really going to try and send the Devil himself back to hell alone?”

“I was rather hoping you would come with me,” Aziraphale stated as he grabbed another book, organizing them all by author and time period in his bags, “But I understand if you don’t want to-“

“As if I would let you face this alone, of course I’m coming with you,” Crowley spat, drinking the scotch straight from the decanter much to Aziraphale’s horror, but he said nothing aside a sideways glance.

Silence fell between them as all three cases filled with all of the angel’s favourite tomes

“Are you going to pack, then?” Aziraphale asked as he clasped the cases closed, satisfied with his selections.

“There is nothing I could possibly bring with me that could help send Lucifer bloody Morningstar back to hell, so no.”

Aziraphale tsked at the demon, running his hand from the top of Crowley’s spine down to the dip above his arse. “You’re being very dramatic. Hell took quite a blow from what we did-Heaven too. Our powers combined are more formidable than you give credit.”

“Easy ‘nough for you to say,” Crowley slurred with a shudder, taking another long drink from the glass bottle, “You don’t know him like I do.”

“You need to relax,” Aziraphale whispered, now so closely behind the demon he could breathe down his neck, eliciting another shudder, “You worry too much.”

“I worry the perfect amount, actually,” Crowley responded breathlessly, trying desperately not to lean into the angel. “Why do we have to fly anyways?”

“Because I don’t know how long this is going to take and I want my books with me.”

Crowley groans. Aziraphale knows just how to make him melt totally unintentionally. He turns and steps forward to close the distance between them, pressing up close to the angel. “It’s going to be alright. You have me. No matter what.” Crowley kisses down Aziraphale’s neck, making the angel moan and lean back into the touch.

“I know, my dear.” Aziraphale sighs, “But to what end?” He takes Crowley’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks, “I am afraid. This is the actual devil we are talking about.”

“Not so scary. ‘Specially the second go around.” Crowley slurs, eyes focused on the angel’s lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his own.

It was strange how their emotions passed from one another effortlessly, so much so that neither of them noticed. It seemed as though all they could focus on in that moment was staring at each other’s lips before crashing together once more.

Today felt like it was going to be a good day. Lucifer was excited to gloat once he was able to prove that the priest wasn’t so high and mighty after all-that deep down we all deserve hell and damnation. 

The investigation started off with a murder and he was absolutely ecstatic as all signs pointed to the man in the collar. Wouldn’t this be the biggest way to flip the bird to the Almighty? Exposing one of their servants as a tool of darkness.

Two things happened that Lucifer did not expect upon arrival at the church. First, consecrated ground didn’t burn his feet. He could have sworn that happened last time. But no matter, because the second thing was that an absolute vision of a woman was walking into confession and he had to know what nasty little sin brought her here.

Unfortunately the Detective rudely interrupted the unholy confession and he left her with a “For your penance, ten bloody Mary’s and a good shag.”  
The third unexpected thing to happen was the church being shot up immediately upon their way out.

This was getting far more interesting despite the priest looking more and more like a proper servant of the Almighty. He hadn’t given up yet that he could still be corrupted-still be damned. 

Inviting the priest into his den of temptation seemed to be the only logical course of action.

After a quick shag, and much convincing by the demon’s part, Crowley and Aziraphale miracled themselves to Los Angeles.

“Once we’ve found a nice hotel to stay in, then we can miracle your books here. I’m not carrying them around.” With a great dramatic sigh, Crowley continued, “I miss the Bentley.”

“Yes, well, miracling an entire car seems completely irrational. Besides, maybe you’ll find a nice vehicle here-“

“Doubtful, angel,” Crowley sighed again, looking down at his smartphone for a moment before curling his arm around Aziraphale’s waist, “This way.”

They walk like that for a few blocks, getting closer and closer to the beach until they arrived at Mi Casa Del Mar.

“Oh, Crowley!” The angel exclaimed. “This is gorgeous.”

“Only the best for you, Aziraphale,” Crowley’s voice had that dark musk to it that he typically reserved for the bedroom or for tempting in general. It made the blond shudder under his touch. “Come on, we’ve got to get you dressed before going after the devil.” With a snap, the luggage appeared on a trolley and they made their way inside, a very confused bell boy taking the trolley from them.

Amenadiel wasn’t entirely sure he had made the right decision inviting Aziraphale here, but somehow knew it was all part of God’s plan. Bringing the human cop into this already felt like a mistake, but he hoped that the ethereal powers at work would counteract any mistakes he had made.

So, he prayed, for forgiveness and guidance and a promising end result.

As usual, God did not answer their son.

Aziraphale adjusted his collar for the hundredth time that evening as he waited at the bar for their drinks. The new outfit was stylish-a navy blue button up, light grey trousers and matching waistcoat, and black shoes. He had insisted on keeping the pocket watch, and Crowley had insisted to at least miracle it silver.

The demon in question had hissed upon their arrival and gone to hide in a dark corner when he recognized the frighteningly beautiful woman behind the bar.  
Mazikeen.

She poured two double scotches for the angel and he tried his best to walk away calmly after paying her. She was completely unreadable. If she knew who they were this could get very messy very fast. Fortunately for them she appeared to be distracted by the show being put on.

“Nuns? Really?” Crowley scoffed as he took the glass from Aziraphale.

“Well you must admit, he’s got quite the sense of humor,” the angel responded as he looked about the place until finally resting on the devil in question. “And style.” He raised his eyebrows in his direction and Crowley followed his gaze.

“A fucking priest? What is he up to?”

After a while of drinking and talking, the blonde woman having left Lucifer alone with the priest, they made their way up to the penthouse. Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look before they both drained their fifth glass of scotch. Time to fly.

Lucifer did not expect to be enjoying himself while playing piano with Father Frank. But he did. Immensely. He’d been playing alone for so long, this was something new and lovely. He thought about what Linda had said that morning. Wouldn’t that be ironic if the first friend he made on Earth was a priest?

From where Aziraphale and Crowley perched on the balcony, they both shared a thought.

This is getting very interesting.

They decided to wait with the priest for the Devil’s return, finding a better spot to hide inside, easily able to stay invisible from one human.

When Lucifer and his blond lady friend-who he frequently called Detective-returned, showing the priest something on the tablet in their hands. Now they could finally hear the conversation about drug lords and shootings, and suddenly they wondered what Lucifer could possibly be up to. Working with the police? To stop chaos and bloodshed and drug abuse? 

The pair shared a look from their hiding place in the luxurious walk-in closet. This was definitely not what they expected, but both suspected a catch somewhere.  
As Lucifer and the priest walked out onto the balcony, they decided they could risk a few words.

“What is he up to?” Aziraphale asked as soon as the being in question was out of ear shot.

“I dunno probably playing the system. Finding people to punish, being a right bastard. Typical devil business.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “He certainly doesn’t appear to be doing any evil.”

“Not yet.”

Aziraphale paused before whispering even more quietly, “I don’t trust Amenadiel. What if Lucifer is changing? Becoming more human like us. It seems to me that he’s been here for a while. Look at this place.” He gestured around them. “Hand made for him. Each and everything in this mansion hand-picked by him. Look at that library.” He gestured back out through the door and Crowley rolled his eyes this time. 

“Course you’d notice the books.” Crowley said with a smirk, but he couldn’t deny what the angel had said. It appeared as though Lucifer was going native.

When their eyes meet again, Crowley couldn’t read the emotion on Aziraphale’s face.

“What is it, angel?”

“I just… I think quite possibly…” words were failing Aziraphale, hoping he wouldn’t offend his partner, or make things uncomfortable.

“Spit it out.”

“What if this is all part of Her plan? To redeem her son-the one we all thought irredeemable.”

Crowley couldn’t hide his frown nor hold in his seething whisper of, “Oh wouldn’t that be lovely after all that pain and torture and bloodshed?”

“But Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered sweetly, cupping the demon’s cheek with his left hand, “If he can be redeemed, that means anyone can.”

The words fell over him like warm rain. It would be lovely to think that. However, Crowley didn’t believe a word of it.

Little did they know, Father Frank and Lucifer were having a very similar conversation.

Silence fell between them. That moment was the perfect moment to pause, as first the priest and then Lucifer a few minutes later left the penthouse.

Aziraphale moved to embrace Crowley, wrapping his arms around the demon’s waist and burying his face in his neck and long red curls. He had always loved Crowley’s long hair, and once admitted after one too many glasses of liquor, the demon had immediately acquiesced. 

“You may not have faith in Her, but I am asking you to have faith in me,” Aziraphale whispered, lips now barely touching his neck just behind his ear. He moved one hand up the demon’s back as he spoke, fingers weaving into Crowley’s hair from the nape of his neck to the back of his head before taking a good grip and tugging perfectly.

Crowley moaned. “I do. I do have faith in you, angel.” 

They both sighed in unison before disentangling from each other. Lucifer was on the move. The tell-tale sign of his chaotic lustful energy had started to fade off in the distance.

“Shall we follow?” Aziraphale asked, leaving the closet.

“’Suppose,” Crowley replied.

They walked to the balcony hand in hand before flying after the Devil.

Watching Lucifer walk into the church without even flinching was astonishing.

“I’m going to follow him,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley grabbed his arm, “I can’t follow you, angel.” There was silent pleading in the demon’s words, but he knew the answer.

“I won’t be seen,” the angel said with a snap, before flying down from the adjacent rooftop to the church.

Crowley sunk further into the shadows, leaning against a doorway, eye’s fixated on the church door.

“Hey stranger,” a familiar voice spoke from behind him, making him jump. This only made the voice chuckle.

“Maze,” he whispered before turning to look at her. She leaned against the wall, dagger in hand, black eyes gleaming. Seemed she’d miracled a new look for her outing, now clad in tight leather pants and a long sleeved velvet shirt. All black of course.

She sauntered over to him, just as lust filled as his own. Crowley swallowed as the distance between them closed to mere inches. Maze smirked.

“I’ve missed you,” she said and surprisingly kissed him. His eyes widened, but he softened. He had missed her too. Then after another moment he shoved her off.

“Maze!” He hissed, “What are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Earth is boring. Seeing you makes me miss Hell.”

He shuddered. Of course she would miss such a miserable place. “Yeah, well, times have changed. I’m sort-of free lancing my own demonic whims.” He began to pace, “And I’m-I-Oh for fuck’s sake- I’m with someone, alright? Haven’t really talked boundaries. Been too focused on each other.” That moment brought him right back to the church when he heard a gunshot. 

Meanwhile in the church, Aziraphale had been watching the scene unfold before him, and the priest had showed unwavering faith in the Almighty and sacrificed his life to save an innocent. That had touched Aziraphale greatly, but he could not have even possibly been prepared from the grief that Lucifer instantly surrendered to.

Another gunshot followed and then Lucifer shouting, “Father! No, no, no you idiot! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

Aziraphale moved in the shadows, watching Lucifer cradle the priest in his lap, removing his very expensive suit jacket to try futilely to stop the bleeding. 

“Don’t go anywhere, you moron!” Lucifer commanded.

“It’s ok, I’m not afraid of dying.” Father Frank said softly, letting Lucifer hold him.

“Well, you should be. It’s really boring where you’re headed.”

Aziraphale smiled to himself, despite the painfulness he felt as he watched, wishing he could step in and heal the man, but also knowing this was part of Her plan.

“I should hope so,” The priest said. “I’ve had enough excitement for one life.”

“Stop talking like that.” Lucifer pleaded. “You’ve got more to here. You’ve got more people to annoy.”

“Pressure on the wound.” The blond woman said.

“I am,” Lucifer shot at her, before returning his attention to the priest, “Just come on, Frank, stay with me, stay with me.”

Aziraphale felt the tears prickle the corners of his eyes. He was right. The devil before would never do to say any of these things. The devil before would have been burned by consecrated ground. Lucifer was changing. He could almost see the incandescently white wings at Lucifer’s back showing how much love and grace She had left for him. 

Frank groaned before speaking. “At first… I didn’t understand why God put you in my path. But then it hit me. “He chuckled, “Maybe… He put me in yours.”

“I… highly doubt it. He gave up on me a long time ago.”

“You’re wrong, Lucifer. Remember… your father… has-has a plan.”

“My father? You know?” Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Frank?”

But the priest had passed.

“Frank!”

Aziraphale felt like someone had poured ice water on him as that feeling of love passed into ruthless rage.

Lucifer growled as he turned towards the shooter.

As much as the angel did not want to watch what happened next, he did. He watched Lucifer scream at the man, holding him up above his head by his neck. But then another unexpected thing happened. Lucifer showed mercy for possibly the very first time.

Aziraphale had seen enough and carefully left the church.

Silence had fallen between the demons after the gunshots. Crowley was frozen in terror, completely fixated on the door of the church, waiting to see his angel emerge unscathed.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Mazikeen finally spoke, “If you’re going to try and convince Lucifer to go back to Hell, I’m all for it.” She paused but Crowley didn’t speak-didn’t move or breathe either. “You know where to find me.”

With a snap he was alone.

Thankfully it was only another handful of moments before Aziraphale was leaving the church and swooping up to Crowley, practically diving into his arms.

“Let’s go,” the angel spoke softly, voice full of emotion. “Please.”

Crowley miracled them back to their hotel room, both landing in a heap on the plush king size bed. He tucked away his own wings, but Aziraphale did not. He simply clung to the demon with all his limbs, wrapping arms, legs, and wings around Crowley.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“I was right,” he was able to say before finally the sobs he had been holding back broke free.

He cried for what felt like hours.

Crowley could do nothing but hold him and comfort him, pressing soft kisses on his head, cheek, eyes, hair, hands moving in soothing circles over his back. He whispered words of sweet nothings, hoping that whatever caused his angel this much grief could be solved.

Eventually, Aziraphale calmed down, taking deep breaths, breathing in the scent of his beloved. 

“I was right,” He repeated, voice hoarse. Crowley summoned a glass of water for the angel and they finally disentangled from each other so Aziraphale could take a drink and collect himself. “Lucifer has changed. Become more human. So much so I just saw him grieve over the priest who was caught in the crossfire. And I-“ he took a deep shuddering breath and Crowley rubbed his back a little bit. “I saw Her grace in him still. He even gave mercy to the one who shot the man.”

Crowley could not hide his shock. Lucifer had never been merciful. Especially to the ones who deserved to be punished.

“That can’t be,” he said, dumbly.

“I assure you that is exactly what happened.”

Crowley gulped, feeling tears prickle in his own eyes. “Well… What are we gonna do about it?”

“For now, nothing. Merely observe to be sure he truly isn’t up to anything evil.”

“Are we moving to Los Angeles?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I suppose we are.” Then he sighed. “I want to go to him tonight. Alone.” He cleared his throat. “If anything were to happen between us, I would hope you wouldn’t be jealous.”

Oh, this was new. “Really, angel? Lucifer himself?”

“Don’t sound so incredulous. He is temptation incarnate.”

“Right, so if I go and shag my demon ex-girlfriend you wouldn’t be jealous?”

Aziraphale blushed, but replied without pause. “Of course not. I don’t own you, Crowley. And I know our love is true.”

“Well, alright then. Good luck with the devil.”

Grief, anger, sadness, and loneliness consumed Lucifer. He chucked his lighter off the balcony and began to rant to the sky. “You cruel manipulative bastard!” he shouted, “Was this all part of your plan? It’s all just a game to you, isn’t it? Eh?”

Aziraphale was perched behind and above Lucifer, looking down at him, listening.

“Well, I know punishment,” He continued, aiming a pointed finger at the heavens, “and he did not deserve that. He followed Your stupid rules and it still wasn’t good enough! So what does it take to please you? Break the rules and you fall. Follow them and you still lose?! Doesn’t matter whether you’re a sinner! Doesn’t matter whether you’re a saint! Nobody can win, so what’s the point? What’s the bloody point?”

Aziraphale decided this was the moment he had been waiting for and gently landed beside Lucifer, offering him a flame for his cigarette. “Love, I believe, is the point.”  
Lucifer snarled and recoiled. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here? Did my father send you?”

“No, your brother. He wanted me to send you back to hell.” Aziraphale offered the light once more, and this time Lucifer took it with a scoff. “But I’m not going to. Never been one to follow orders.”

“As if you could. One lesser angel against the Devil? Hardly a challenge.” Lucifer took a deep inhale from his cigarette, eyeing the angel wearily. “Why are you here then?”

“I’m here to help. You seem lost. Searching for something new. Ready for change.”

“Nope. Same old, bad devil.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I don’t believe you. I’ve seen you at your worst. 5 years has done much to you. Earth tends to have that effect on us.”

Lucifer leaned in close, eyes flashing red. “I am still the devil.”

Completely unphased, Aziraphale felt his own eyes flash silver, “And I am still a warrior of God.” He softened his gaze instantly, “But I still choose Earth, and love, and human life over whatever horseshit heaven seems to think needs to happen.”

Lucifer chuckled at that, taking another moment to smoke. “What is your name, angel?”

“Aziraphale,” he responded. “I hate to intrude, but could we possibly have a drink together? I feel we have much to discuss. Alcohol helps.”

Another laugh from the devil as he flicked the rest of the cigarette off the balcony. “Perhaps another night. I think I want to be alone.” A strange look passed his features before he delicately placed his hand on the angel’s cheek. “Thank you for your kindness. It’s… refreshing. I’ve never met an angel who wasn’t cruel.”

Aziraphale felt his heart hammering out of his chest, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “Believe it or not, but I have felt much like you have. Questioning everything. Waiting for an answer from the Almighty that you’ll never receive. You’ll find the answers.” He takes a deep breath before stepping back, stretching his wings, “I’ll be here to help.”

With that he flew away, leaving Lucifer alone in the penthouse.


	3. Heaven Beside You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty time for some shameless smut. This chapter is named after the song by Alice in Chains.

Months passed after Aziraphale and Crowley moved to LA. No closer to redeeming the devil, but he seemed to be rapidly changing ever more to his surroundings, allowing himself to fully embrace the human feeling of love. Until Chloe appeared to be a miracle from Dear Old Dad.

Lucifer was packing, shoving random things in suitcases, sending texts to people to come cover everything in the penthouse immediately. He had to go- had to run. Chloe was safe, but he felt like he was drowning.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a voice commanded from the balcony, and Lucifer turned to face Aziraphale who had recently landed, wings fully extended for a moment before tucking away.

“Away. Get my mind off all Almighty related things, so if you don’t mind” Lucifer had returned his attention to shoving clothing and booze inside suitcases, not noticing the angel’s approach.

“I do mind, Lucifer,” Aziraphale spoke, grabbing the taller man by the jaw to force him to look at him. “You don’t get to run away so easily.”  
Lucifer furrowed his brow. “I can do whatever the bloody hell I want. Do you think you can stop me?” His eyes flashed red.

“Yes,” Aziraphale responded, grip tightening slightly. “But I don’t think I’ll need to. I think we’ve both wanted this for quite some time.”

That was the truth. How many times had they flirted? How many times had they stolen glances, secretly undressing each other?

Lucifer didn’t answer. He had never seen this side of the angel before. He demanded dominance, and Lucifer felt like he needed to submit.

So when Aziraphale moved his hand lower to grasp Lucifer’s throat and push him down, he melted, sinking to his knees fluidly.

“That’s what I thought,” Aziraphale said with a smirk. “You need to let go for a little bit. Clear your mind. I can help you.”

“Please,” Lucifer said raggedly, the angel’s hand still gripping his throat.

“Begging already?” Aziraphale clicked his tongue, “We haven’t even started.” He released his grip to begin circling the devil. “Take off your clothes.”

Lucifer obeyed. Already he felt his mind falling into that lovely space where the only thing that mattered was pleasing someone else, being their toy. He discarded his clothes to the floor and with a snap they were folded on the piano bench. The snap brought his attention back to the beautiful angel who had him at his mercy.

Aziraphale hummed in approval. “So good for me already.” He ran his fingers into Lucifer’s dark hair, ruining its perfect style deftly as he grabbed a handful and pulled, forcing his head back. “Perhaps I will reward you.”

Lucifer said nothing, waiting, and not for the first time, he wanted to be good. Especially for this angel.

Aziraphale smiled before leaning down to kiss Lucifer. It started as just a firm press of lips before they melded together, tangling tongues sloppily. Lucifer ran his hands up Aziraphale’s body, from hips all the way to twine into soft platinum blond hair. Both moaned into the kiss as Aziraphale pulled Lucifer to his feet.

The devil moved his hands back down Aziraphale’s body, grabbing him by his hips to pull them flush together, moaning at the contact on his cock.

“Hard already?” the angel asked as he broke away, a smirk in his voice and eyes.

“One hundred percent of the time,” Lucifer responded.

Aziraphale backed away to pour whiskey into two glasses from the bar. Lucifer stayed still, waiting.

“Have you ever tried a different configuration?” the angel asked as he offered a glass.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in shock. “I beg your pardon?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes slightly. “You know very well what I am implying.”

Silence fell between them for a moment as they drank before Lucifer shakily responded, “No, I prefer these parts.”

“Would you consider a change up?”

The shock picked up a notch throughout Lucifer’s nervous system, but he knew his answer. “Anything to please you, angel.”

Aziraphale wondered briefly if he was using Crowley’s typical name of endearment for any specific reason, but then shook it off.

“How about tonight you call me Master. Not because I own you, but because I am going to be the master of your pleasure.” He spoke all of this while casually running his fingertips across Lucifer’s torso. “That being said, I don’t want you to do anything to make you uncomfortable. Especially since the first go with those parts can be very intense.”

Lucifer shuddered before draining his glass. “Perhaps that’s what I need. I don’t know what that is, so I…” he trailed off for a moment feeling the weight of his next words stick to him like honey, “I trust you to.”

It was Aziraphale’s turn to feel shock, but he hid it well, instead giving a small smile. “Well then. Go lie down on the bed and get acquainted with your new bits while I undress.”

Again, Lucifer obeyed, setting down the empty glass on the piano before making his way up the steps to his bed, laying down on the gold satin. He took a moment to concentrate, imagining the kind of vagina he would love to have in his face at any given moment, before feeling himself change. With only an ounce of hesitation he reached down to touch himself. A gasp escaped him. This was much more sensitive. Warm and inviting. Already starting to get wet with anticipation. 

Aziraphale watched as best he could, really only seeing Lucifer’s upper body, but watching him react was sinful. Lucifer’s lips parted as he gasped, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers teased his entrance. This was all so new and spectacular. How could he not know what this felt like until now?

The angel found himself undressing faster, wanting to see more. Once his clothes accompanied Lucifer’s on the piano bench, he joined him, standing in the doorway as he watched Lucifer touch himself.

“How do you feel?” the angel asked. 

“You were right,” he said breathlessly, “Intense.”

“Are you ready for more?”

Lucifer nodded eagerly, finger circling his clit still before Aziraphale moved forward to replace his hand with his own, sitting on the bed beside him. The devil moaned then, letting his head fall back as Aziraphale rubbed him slowly, creating a cycle of touching with two fingers from the bottom of his entrance to circle his clit then delving into the wetness slightly only to repeat the movement.

Everything started to feel very warm and tingly. Lucifer needed more but couldn’t find the words. So instead he reached for Aziraphale’s cock, giving it a few strokes before the angel removed his hand.

“So eager.” Aziraphale sighed, deciding to finally plunge his fingers into the now very wet folds of Lucifer’s cunt. He curled his fingers, searching for that spot, knowing instantly when he’s found it as Lucifer hissed and gasped, hips bucking into the touch.

“More,” he pleaded, ready to be blissed out of his mind.

Aziraphale hummed again, before shifting on the bed, never withdrawing his fingers, until he was seated between Lucifer’s legs. Without any warning, he leaned down to lick from where his fingers were back to his swollen clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking lazy circles around it, continuing his motions with his fingers, creating an easy rhythm.

Lucifer threaded his fingers into Aziraphale’s hair, pushing him down softly, moaning at the intensity of it all. He didn’t feel like the devil in this moment. He felt like a fallen angel being filled with grace. Warmth reaching an almost uncomfortable level over his whole body, his legs begun to shakes as Aziraphale began flicking his tongue faster on his clit.

A powerful orgasm washed over Lucifer in waves, his whole body shuddering as it ripped through him, moaning loudly, hips bucking against the angel’s face, still wanting more. Aziraphale withdrew and Lucifer whimpered, attempting to push him back. While he had super human strength, so did Aziraphale, and he resisted easily.

The angel tsked, moving back up to capture Lucifer’s lips into a kiss, allowing him to taste himself. Lucifer moaned again, a shudder wracking through his body. He had never felt such need take over him. He needed to be filled in a way he had never felt before.

“You want to lose yourself in all of this?” Aziraphale asked as he broke away, lining himself up to Lucifer’s entrance. The devil moaned, nodding as he attempted to rotate his hips downward, but the angel was just out of reach. “Then you take what I give you and let yourself go.”

As Aziraphale pushed forward, guiding his cock inside him, Lucifer did just that. He let go, allowing himself to be lost in it all. Without even thinking, he flipped their positions, never letting them be separated. Once seated on top of the angel, he began rocking his hips, slowly lifting himself off and then falling back down. He’d done this before but not with this configuration and it was perfect. Each time he fell back down, Aziraphale’s cock rubbed that spot so perfectly he moaned. Every time. It didn’t take long for both of them to find a rhythm together, both moving in search of pleasure, Aziraphale moving his hips in such a way that he continued to hit that spot within the devil harder with each thrust, Lucifer arching into the touch, impaling himself with even more fervor, legs already shaking again.

“Master,” the word fell unbidden from his lips, and he tried to bite them to keep from saying anything else, but this made Aziraphale move, sitting up to grab Lucifer by the back of his neck, breath hot between them as they ground up against each other, now even deeper inside him. Lucifer’s mouth fell open again, pleasure sending sparks of lightening across his entire body, so close to orgasm. “Please,” the word sounded so broken.

“Come for me,” Aziraphale commanded, reaching between them to rub Lucifer’s clit with the pad of his thumb.

Lucifer came with a shout, whole body trembling. This time, Aziraphale flipped their positions, easing Lucifer back down on the soft satin, before fucking him in earnest, now searching for his own pleasure.

But Lucifer was not satisfied. Already aroused again, he touched himself as he watched Aziraphale, eye’s half lidded with lust, lips parted, moans falling every time that sweet spot inside him was thrust against. “Yes,” the devil said breathlessly, mind just about gone now as his third orgasm approached, “Yes, right there. Please. Please more. Right there.” Hips rolling, searching for release.

Aziraphale was close too, but he held on, waiting for Lucifer to come again. But it all became too much when Lucifer moaned “Aziraphale, please,” his voice a broken sob. Aziraphale lost his own control, fucking him even harder, absolutely making the devil go mindless as pleasure crashed over them both, orgasming simultaneously. 

Aziraphale collapsed next to Lucifer on the bed, both panting hard even though they both didn’t need to breathe.

Lucifer was completely blissed out as he had needed, body still shaking from the intensity of it all. “Wow,” he managed to whisper hoarsely.

The angel chuckled, taking in that look of relaxed pleasure over the devil’s face. “I did try and warn you.”

“No,” Lucifer breathed, grasping his upper arm, “No that was exactly what I needed.” Another shudder from the aftershocks of his orgasms wracked through him. “Fuck, is it bad if I want more?”

Aziraphale moaned. “No, not at all. We can go until you don’t even remember your name.” He rolled back on top of the devil, kissing his way back down, ready to keep going until Lucifer was satisfied.

This went on until the next afternoon before Lucifer eventually ran off to Las Vegas.


	4. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley dreams, remembers, and is transformed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing with the whole Raphael theory around Crowley. Not sure how it's gonna work but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter. Fluffiest smut I've ever written.

Crowley was dreaming.

_The saunter to Hell was agonizing. Each step as his body transformed tore him apart. Hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millennia…? He didn’t know how long the pain would endure. All he could do was continue because he was still asking questions._

_“Why me? I haven’t _done _anything!” His voice echoed down the tunnel of darkness. He walked a path of smoke and shadow, white fire igniting under his feet, burning him from the inside out, angelic becoming demonic at an excruciatingly slow pace. _

_He watched more angels fall past him, screaming as they were shredded into their demonic form. He couldn’t decide if this was better or worse. He was so incredibly alone._

_After an endless journey, finally the smell grew reek and the fire got hotter, blazing around him now, charred flesh being renewed with scales, body almost completely morphed into a giant black snake. The last thing to change was his eyes. In that moment before he felt them burn out of his skull, a beam of white light fell on him from Heaven._

_“Raphael,” Her voice sang out to him, “One day you will have your answers and one day you will be restored.”_

_ As his eyes melted and then reformed, his vision was different. Everything was dull, unfocused, and the light took his name from him. He slithered into Hell, reborn._

Crowley awoke with a start, gasping. He was happy to feel Aziraphale next to him, but also sad. Why hadn’t he woke him up?

He held his face in hands, rubbing his eyes before gripping his hair for a moment. His first trip to Hell he had long since forgotten. Now it had returned to him with such intensity he couldn’t quite handle it. Maybe Aziraphale was right.

He let out a shuddering breath before moving out of his bed and out into his flat. Everything was dark. How long had he been asleep? The dream had felt like an age. He searched for his smart phone and was nearly blinded by its brightness. His eyes felt strange. He rubbed them again, before attempting to turn down the brightness on his mobile, but the shapes were different too. Everything was sharp and vivid. After realizing he’d slept for a day and a half he made his way to the bathroom, turning the lights on-which made him wince, but he’d adjust-and taking a look in the mirror.

Crowley gasped.

Eyes once golden with narrow black slits, now were the color of dark amber honey, pupils round and wide in amazement. He was still cold, but that was his nature, being one of the cold endless expanse of space and stars. And his _wings. _He let them unfurl with a sigh, taking in the new colors and sensations. All that was once dull was now vibrant. His wings, that while glossy had looked ashen, now shone bright, almost a blue glow in the midnight color of them.

Tears fell freely from Crowley, joy as he realized what it all meant. He didn’t have to worry about making Aziraphale Fall anymore. They were blessed and saved. The tears in his eyes shone, making the color alike his familiar gold.

“Crowley?” that familiar voice called out to him from the hallway.

“Aziraphale,” he was excited to look at him. If all this had turned from dull to vibrant, how would the most vibrant thing in his life look now?

As the door swung open, they both exchanged a gasp. Aziraphale looked at him in wonder, slowly processing what it meant, and suddenly a radiant smile lit up his whole being. Crowley’s eyes basked in Aziraphale’s Holy glow, love bleeding from one to the other. When their eyes met, both cried with smiles on their faces.

They didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. Instead they reached out for each other, pulling each other into a passionate embrace, tears still falling, making the kiss salty and bittersweet.

With a snap, they were both transported back to the bedroom, both unwilling to break away from each other. Hands grasped everywhere and Crowley was already feeling overwhelmed. His senses were all so sharp. Each touch burned with desire and pleasure, sending shockwaves throughout his whole body. Didn’t help that he had fallen asleep in nothing but maroon silk pajama pants.

He was pleased that Aziraphale had fallen asleep in nothing but an oversized white t-shirt.

Those two articles of clothing were deftly removed as they began to move towards the bed. They had done this dance countless times before, but for Crowley it felt like the first time. His body was anew, restored to his celestial state, and it had never been touched like this. So, each brush of fingertips along his torso, each kiss trailing down his neck and chest, each pinch and twist at his nipples, each teasing caress from hip to inner thigh, absolutely destroyed him.

They fell onto the mattress together, laying side by side, both exploring every inch of each other’s bodies, catching kisses as they moved together. Heavy breathing and soft moans and deep sighs filled the room alongside the smell of sweat and musk and desire.

“Angel,” and this time, Aziraphale bestowed the pet name onto Crowley, stroking back the long flame red hair from his face, before drawing him for another passionate kiss, pulling him on top, in between his legs.

A half moan half broken sob ripped from Crowley’s chest, muffled by the kiss. Pressed up against him, feeling Aziraphale’s _praise_ wash over him, feeling their cocks line up against one another, both hips rocking slowly into one another, creating delicious friction. Aziraphale wrapped his legs around Crowley’s hips, pulling him in closer, moaning as their tongues danced together.

Somewhere in that kiss they both opened their eyes. Blue met golden brown with electricity, making them both moan and shudder. Never before them had an angel and a demon joined together. And never before them an angel and an angel. The intensity of the power they both possessed, rippled under the gaze they held, still moving together as they kissed.

Crowley was the first to break it, sitting up to stare at Aziraphale, eyes taking down his body, wings stretching out fully. “Wings out, angel,” he said, a hand tracing from jaw to hip with the slightest touch making the blond under him shiver and acquiesce his request. The white gold wings burst from behind Aziraphale, making them both gasp, hips moving again.

Their wings curled towards each other as Crowley dived back down, hand dipping past Aziraphale’s erection to his taut entrance. Fingers miraculously slick with lube, moved playfully along his arsehole before plunging a single digit inside slowly. Their lips met again, sloppy and desperate, Aziraphale already rocking his hips into the sensation of Crowley all around him, inside him, on top of him, the feel of his gorgeous hair in his fingers, and the electric shock of their eyes locked in pleasure.

As Crowley added another finger, Aziraphale found he couldn’t help himself from caressing midnight feathers with his free hand, reveling in the way Crowley absolutely trembled under that touch. His wings before had been burnt from all feeling and now they were a whole new erogenous zone. Crowley began thrusting into him now, twisting and moving his fingers to stretch him open.

Aziraphale couldn’t take it any longer, grasping the fluffy feathers at the juncture at the base of them where they met his back and pulling, ripping a moan from Crowley. “Please,” the blond pleaded, “I need you inside me.” He let his head fall back as Crowley curled his fingers one last time, making sure to brush against that spot inside Aziraphale, prompting a loan groan from him.

Crowley touched himself, more lube covering his cock before he moved, pressing forward slowly inside Aziraphale. The blond groaned, rolling his hips, using his grip on Crowley’s wing and hair and his legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in deeper.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Crowley cursed as he was buried all the way inside him.

“Yessss,” Aziraphale moaned, coming undone already, hands desperately moving along Crowley’s body, loving how sensitive he had become.

A new sensation began in his groin, as he felt himself change inside Aziraphale, cock a little longer and thicker, head pressed perfectly on that sweet spot inside him. Aziraphale whinged and cursed, body overwhelmed with pleasure. Crowley was stunned about his physical response to being with Aziraphale like this, but he loved it, loved seeing his angel fall apart like this, wings shuddering as he slowly pulled out only to slam back in.

Crowley repeated the movement as many times as he could, Aziraphale _melting_ under him, completely at a loss for words as pleasure reached every fibre of his being, but eventually his own desperation mixed with Aziraphale's wordless pleas made him give in, hips thrusting at a perfect pace.

They both felt their orgasm rising like a tidal wave, building impossibly higher with each motion. Though lost in his pleasure, Aziraphale was reminded of something he had read and knew now was the perfect time to try.

He flipped them, using his wings to reposition them on the bed, never letting Crowley pull out of him, until he was seated on his lap, wings circling around them, feathers finally touching each other. The both shuddered, leaning in to kiss again, this time slow and sweet and passionate as a new rhythm formed between them.

Tantra. Once Aziraphale had read about it he knew he had wanted to try, but he also knew that Crowley’s demonic self would not like sharing his energy so freely with him. Everything was different now. The light that poured from one to the other was perfectly matched and utterly blinding. Their slow rocking in time with each other felt even better than any rough thrusting had. They both felt like they would explode from how _good _it all felt.

And yet the pleasure just kept building, almost painfully as their movements became more sporadic, searching for release in one another.

“I want to come,” Aziraphale begged, finally moving a hand onto his own cock, the other moving back to tangle his fingers in Crowley’s feathers. He moaned before using his own hands to grip Aziraphale’s hair, hips thrusting and rolling into him, using his hair as leverage. Aziraphale used his wings to lift himself up, and drop back down, each time causing the pleasure to spike across his skin. He felt the pleasure finally build to a crescendo, heat coiling deep in his belly before releasing all over Crowley’s stomach.

“Oh, angel,” Crowley moaned coming simultaneously, watching Aziraphale like this, feeling him like this, being with him like this wrecked him, his whole body convulsing with the intensity of his first orgasm in this form.

“My angel,” Aziraphale replied breathlessly, hands moving up his back to caress his face with both hands, drawing him for another love-filled kiss.


End file.
